Dance, what I think of as call-and-response is something I start doing in topical classes that are above 22 or so students. If the class is smaller, I come in with a less specific agenda of what I want to talk about in the discussion, because I feel we can be more exploratory. There’s more of a chance to find out how each student has read and thought about the material, and have some back-and-forth conversation about it. Once I cross the low 20s, trying to do that means that there’s going to be two classes, in effect: the class of students who are involved in discussion and a second class of students who end up having to listen, just because of the constraints of size.

So in call-and-response, I’ve got a more tightly prepared or constrained agenda of things I want to do with the reading and I do a good deal more improvised mini-lecturing in between. So, for example, when we read two pieces that had a fairly Foucauldian take on environmental studies, I started off with a mini-lecture on Foucault. I think it’s a slightly less satisfying way to go than the more open-ended kind of discussion, but I’ve learned the hard way that a class which is too large for open-ended discussion needs to be organized a bit differently.

In a smaller class, I may “take the reins” from time to time, but I’m also content to let things go to places I hadn’t planned. The one thing I do try to do is interpret most of the student comments, to put them in perspective for everyone, to seize on the part of the comment that is generative of some larger insight or a window into debate.

I agree with your comments on the differing levels of participation required for large/small classes. One thing I’ve noticed in this class, and throughout my time in college, is that, in discussions, students will often fail to bring up things they feel are “obvious”, even if that’s all the professor is looking for. There’s a bit of a stigma attached to pointint out obvious things, and “Master of the Obvious” is a classic “annoying classmate” persona.

Standing in, say Elsäss, South Tyrolia, Austria, East Prussia or Schleswig-Holstein and asking, “Am I in Germany?” is an interesting question. Anyway, I’m sure you get the point, and far be it from me to encourage finer-grained examination at this particular blog (see choir, preaching to), but even your example of a clearly dumb question has answers that reveal interesting things.

I’m always concerned, though, when I hear people emphasizing the role of persuasion in academic and analytic writing. You’re certainly right — it’s there in many ways — but that can lead us (and students) to think of academic arguments as being somehow akin to Op/Ed pieces, which are actually much less nuanced than the kind of writing I think we want college students to produce. Similarly, it seems to me that the most far-reaching of the types of discussable questions you identify are less about persuasion than they are about engagement.